


Answered

by Calvi_sama, Rapscallion



Series: Answered [5]
Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 08:33:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2766536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calvi_sama/pseuds/Calvi_sama, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rapscallion/pseuds/Rapscallion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is the final installment of the Answered series.  We thank all those who have read these stories and left comments/kudos.  If there are any story ideas that you'd like to see us attempt to write (within reason!) then please leave them at the end of this piece.  Again, thanks to all those who have read our stories!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Answered

**Author's Note:**

> This is the final installment of the Answered series. We thank all those who have read these stories and left comments/kudos. If there are any story ideas that you'd like to see us attempt to write (within reason!) then please leave them at the end of this piece. Again, thanks to all those who have read our stories!

Vincent seemed to have used up several days' worth of words that night, because he was largely silent for the two or three. He was lost in thought, lost deep, and there was so very much to think about.

Cid wanted him. The ride home from the restaurant had told him that clearly enough. In the past when someone had wanted him, it had been so simple.

The problem here was that Cid felt so much. He loved Vincent, or at least had convinced them both that he did, and not in the casually appreciative way Vincent had come to expect. This thing Cid felt was something deeper than anything Vincent had experienced. Storybook love, he would have called it then, scoffing and pretending to be above it while craving it in truth.

He would have turned Cid and his professions of love and friendship away, and that realization changed something in Vincent. He still missed living without such weight on his shoulders, still missed living without a care, but he no longer missed being the man he was. If that man would have passed up what Cid offered, passed him up and laughed later behind his back, then he wasn't anyone worth being.

That meant that it was time to figure out if he could be anyone worth being, and that-- well, that was the reason he was so quiet. For a few days, at least, until he realized quite suddenly that peering into his own mind would never, ever do him any good.

Cid had become the focus of his thoughts anyway, and that didn't seem productive.

It produced interesting desires, though, such as the stray idea to bring Cid lunch in his workshop and eat with him there, asking questions about everything around him. Cid seemed to enjoy talking about his work, and just hearing the joy in the man's voice made the topics more than interesting enough to keep Vincent's attention. Cid hadn't even seemed to mind that the sandwiches were a but lumpy.

Shera would be gone only a few days longer, and Vincent was a little afraid that everything would change then. Cid would want to tell Shera what they'd discovered, and then if Shera turned out to be hurt at all-- what would it mean for Cid and Vincent?

It might mean nothing at all, or it might destroy the half-built structure they'd started.

There was only one thing to do about that; if the house was going to fall, it would do so whole and complete. Vincent wasn't one for doing things halfway, and Cid deserved the whole works, not an indefinite amount of time in limbo.

It was probably a good thing that Vincent had decided to take action, because the waiting was starting to tamper with his brain. His thoughts about Cid had gotten increasingly stranger and more imaginative, and they were startling, to say the least.

One moment he would look at Cid and simply reflect that the man was handsome. The next, he would begin to wonder where those hands would touch him, how they would feel sliding certain and free over his body, or if Cid would be pleased if Vincent brought him a beer. Hours later,  after learning that the answer to the latter was affirmative, Vincent had watched Cid half-dozing in his favorite chair and had suddenly seen him elsewhere instead: in the dark beneath a dense canopy of ancient branches, warm golden skin bathed in the glow of the thousands of tiny living lights that filled the great forest.

It had taken away his breath, that image that, while unreal, came to him clear as day.

"I want to take you somewhere," he said suddenly, only realizing once he'd spoken that he had moved to perch on the arm of Cid's chair. "Will you go?" he asked, fingers tracing along the line of Cid's jaw. How this man wasn't already taken and locked away tight, Vincent didn't know... But he knew in that moment that he would be all too happy to do the locking.

Cid blinked sleepily up at Vincent, smiling and leaning slightly into that light touch.  He was half-awake and dreaming, and what a beautiful dream it was.  Cid caught Vincent's hand and brushed a kiss over the gunman's palm.  “I'd go anywhere with ya Vincent, y'know that,” he said, voice hoarse from his nap. 

He'd been exhausted lately, the guilt from their ruined date having ridden him hard and Cid had been very careful to give Vincent his space without appearing to draw away.  It had been harder work than he had expected, but those moments when he had caught Vincent watching him intently, all but appearing -to his imagination anyway- to undress him with his eyes had made it all worth it.  Vincent, Cid had learned, moved at his own speed and he wasn't about to rush Vincent into anything.  Vincent would get to where he was going eventually. 

So Cid had busied himself with his work and was surprised when Vincent had actually sought him out in his workshop, appearing to genuinely care about what he was doing for once and Cid had been more than happy to explain everything.  Even the lunch Vincent had brought him had been a surprise and while the bread had been a bit burned, the meat tasted funny and he was sure the cheese had been expired, Cid had eaten every bite because Vincent had quite clearly made it for him.  It had been the best damned sandwich he had ever had.

Cid stretched in his chair, the old, worn leather creaking with the movement.  He laced his fingers loosely with Vincent's and tilted his head to better look at his friend.  “Where we goin' honey?”

It made Vincent smile to see Cid kissing and holding his hand, and the way the man stretched and relaxed into the chair beside him. "A place where I spent lots of time thinking. I want you to see how beautiful it is at night. And I want to see you there."

He brought their joined hands to his mouth and turned them in order to kiss the back of Cid's hand. "We could fly if you wanted, but we might not be able to get very close. I could take us there quickly, if you like. You'll probably want a weapon," he added. "Just in case."

Cid made a puzzled, inquisitive sound, cocking his head and sitting up a little straighter in the chair.  Just what did Vincent have in mind?  He was definitely interested.  “All right, lemme go 'n get ready,” he said pushing himself up out of his chair.  Judging from Vincent's expression, the gunman wanted to leave soon.  With a last, curious look at Vincent, Cid went into his room and pulled on a pair of durable cargo pants and a comfortable T-shirt.  Tying a long sleeved shirt around his waist just in case, he rummaged around in the back of his closet until he found his old Spirit Lance.

The Gospel was in the Highwind, docked clear out beyond the hangar, so he made do with one of his simpler, but still powerful weapons.  He glanced at the materia slots then walked over to his bed.  Pulling out his old military trunk, he rummaged through the few materia he had left.  Cid selected a mastered Restore materia, mastered Heal material, a mastered Fire materia and a mastered Double Cut materia just in case.  Equipping the materia, he laid the spear on the bed while he put on his worn but sturdy combat boots then straightened back up. 

Completely forgetting the goggles still on his head, he snagged the spare pack of cigarettes from his nightstand, pocketing them and a lighter, he picked the lance up and headed back to where Vincent waited for him.  “Okay, I'm ready, when do we leave?” He asked Vincent with a grin.

Vincent had to stop to look a long while at Cid when he emerged, because this was the man as Vincent had gotten used to seeing him. The old flight jacket and scarf had looked good on Cid, but this was more casual, more accessible, more familiar, while still exuding readiness for anything. He stepped forward to touch after fastening his mantle, little used of late, and adjusting the cape of it.

Cid was always so warm, and that meant he needed a kiss, so Vincent leaned right in to give one as his fingers stopped their trailing down Cid's chest. When he pulled back, he straightened Peacemaker in its holster and lifted an edge of the tattered fabric that hung at his back. "Right away, if you and your pointy stick can fit under here."

They could, at least mostly, and that was good enough for Vincent. He rested his arm around Cid and somehow kept from being distracted by the man as he focused entirely on moving them. Out the open window they went, headed beyond Cosmo Canyon to the base of the mountain that held the Forest of the Ancients.

They landed rather roughly when Vincent, sensing vague proximity to the desired location, released them abruptly. Vincent laughed as he lost his footing, giving in and sitting on the ground. "Sorry, Cid. I haven't needed to take another person quite that distance. I think this is why you usually do the flying."

Cid wasn't much steadier than Vincent, and joined his friend on the ground rather heavily.  “Woah,” he breathed as his eyes gradually swam into focus.  _What a rush_ , he thought dazedly.  The sound of Vincent's laughter made him swing his head around and he immediately closed his eyes when the world tilted crazily. 

Cid had been confused at first when he saw Vincent in his tattered mantle and cape, then skeptical when his friend had gestured he stand under it by his side, then outright terrified -at first- when the world had literally disappeared.  There was the feeling of stretching and pulling, and the next thing he was aware of were the trees, hills and buttes of Cosmo Canyon flashing by in between swirling streaks of red.  They had traveled so fast that Cid hadn't had time to collect himself to properly enjoy the aspect of flying without a plane.

Now he sat on his ass in the Forest of the Ancients, gripping his Spirit Lance and blinking like Yuffie in a materia hoard.  “That was somethin' else Vince, how long you been able t' do that?”  Cid thought about climbing to his feet, but his legs still felt like jelly so he stayed put.

Vincent shrugged. "A while now. I'm sure it has something to do with Chaos and probably even more to do with forgotten gravity magic, but...I try not to think about it." He stood as he spoke, having recovered a little more quickly. "I needed to be away quickly once, and the next thing I knew, I was."

He looked around them, wondering which way they should go. They didn't need to climb or head for the heart of the forest; they were deep enough where they were. "I hope it wasn't too jarring for you. I forgot I hadn't taken you before." He extended a hand, smiling down at Cid.

Momentarily confused, Cid reached up and took Vincent's hand, letting his friend all but haul him to his feet.  Scratching the back of his head, he blinked at Vincent.  “Taken me before, y' mean you've taken someone else fer a ride like that?”  Cid didn't know why that idea bothered him so much.

Vincent shrugged. "Civilians that needed rescuing, mostly. Cloud, once. He wasn't a fan."

 “Cloud?” Cid growled, completely missing the 'civilians that needed rescuing' part.  “Y' picked up th' runt?  'E didn't touch ya did he?” He leveled a piercing look at Vincent.  If he found out that Cloud had touched Vincent...

Vincent snorted. "He was a little too shaken for all that, Chief. Your claim is safe." He had enough sense at least to keep from mentioning all the other men who had touched him. "Does that mean you liked the ride?"

Cid frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.  “Claim?  Y' ain't a piece 'o property t' be owned, Vincent, but if 'e ever touches ya I'll shove m' spear where he ain't gonna be able to get it out in a hurry.”

"If he's as interested in men as you seem to think he is, he might not be too concerned with getting it out," Vincent pointed out, raising an eyebrow. "Depending on which spear you mean. Stop worrying, now, and help me find a big tree."

Cid opened his mouth to argue, but snapped it closed again as Vincent's words rang in his head.  He watched his friend start looking for a tree.  _Th' hell was all that about, Highwind?_ He scowled fiercely and glared at the ground.  _Was I really s' jealous of  Cloud just now?  Th' runt's got Tifa, why would 'e be int'rested in Vincent?  But why wouldn't 'e?  Jus' look at 'im!_ Cid's expression softened as he took his own advice and looked up at Vincent.  The ache in his chest twisted. 

Slowly, he began to walk after Vincent.  _Am I s' int'rested in men?_ He wondered and thought about it, but couldn't bear to think of another man in that capacity.  _Nah.  I'm int'rested in Vincent..._

Cid had gone quiet, and that was probably not a good thing. Then again, maybe he was just looking very hard for a tree. "This one should do," Vincent said after they had walked a little while.  He inspected it carefully for irritated fungi or anything of the sort that might be lurking and, finding nothing, settled down between two roots. "There's enough room for both of us right here. Come and sit with me. Be very still and quiet. We've disturbed them, so we need to stay calm a while."

 Cid frowned in confusion again, previous train of thought momentarily discarded for the present.  “Disturbed 'em?  Who're we talkin' about?” He grunted as he settled into a particularly comfortable bowl.

"You'll see," Vincent said, edging closer to Cid and leaning their shoulders together. "Just there, where we started," he added, pointing. "They look so much warmer than the ones at the City, don't they?" When he'd worked in the Bone Village, he and Lucrecia had joked that they were fairy lights, and more than once had lain together under them. They were only bugs, in truth, just the way he was only a man and not all the things he'd once thought he could be. He wondered if Cid would want to lay with him tonight.

Cid followed Vincent's finger and it took him a minute to see what his friend was talking about.  Sure enough, there in the clearing where they'd landed a faint yellow-white glow was hovering over the grass.  It was nothing more than a tiny pinprick of light and Cid didn't understand what the hell Vincent was talking about until his eyes became accustomed to the darkness around them and he saw the rest.  Hesitant lights winked on and off, dancing on the air, up, down, and in lazy circles the fireflies resumed their nightly courtship ritual.  Below those floating in the air Cid saw the answering firelies glittering in the tall grass like a thousand tiny stars come to land.

 “Whoa,” Cid said again, softly, reverently.  As more and more fireflies resumed their dances, coming out of hiding, Cid was rendered mute by the wonder of it all.  “Look at 'em all,” he said, eyes flicking back and forth as he tried to see everything at once.

Vincent smiled a little, pleased with Cid's reaction. "They like it here. It's peaceful." He nudged Cid's shoulder with his own. "I had this idea that I'd come here to think about everything, but when I couldn't stop picturing you being here with me, I realized there wasn't anything to think about." Vincent wasn't really one to share his quiet places, but he didn't think he'd mind Cid being in any of them. For a loudmouthed pilot, he knew when to keep calm at the right times.

Cid smiled at Vincent, patting the gunman's knee carefully.  “I'm honored that'cha let me share this with ya, Vince.”  He gazed back out at the fireflies, withdrawing his hand back to his own leg and leaning his head against the tree behind them.  “I think I see why ya like it s'much.  Feels like yer kinda outside th' world.  S'peaceful and you c'n think without 'chur brain gettin' all distracted.”

Vincent nodded, folding one leg and assuming his usual sitting position. "I found many places like this as I traveled. Your home has been the best by far, and I hoped I might be able to call it mine now, as well."

“You're always welcome wherever I'm at, Vincent, y' know that and I think Shera's grown right fond of ya as well,” Cid said sincerely.  Wriggling his shoulder behind Vincent's Cid lifted his arms, lacing his fingers and resting his head back on his hands.  “Y' got a calm way 'bout 'cha 'n ya make me a better man, I think.”

"I think I can say the same for you. Well, except maybe the calm parts," he amended, turning to look at Cid with a smile. He was beginning to find himself unable to imagine being without Cid, and when he could manage it, he didn't like it. "If there's anything you need to think about, we can stay here as long as you like," he offered, shifting his seat and lying back instead, hands folded behind his head. "It's a good place to sleep."

“Heh, I don't doubt that at all,” Cid acknowledged.  “But why would I sleep when I'm surrounded by such beauty?  I can't exactly get back here easily.  S'not like I have a green chocobo handy, y'know.”  Cid took a deep breath, holding the fresh, clean air deep in his lungs before exhaling on a sigh.

"I can bring you back any time you want. Or take you anywhere." That aside, Cid was right. There was a lot to see here, not least of all the way Cid's face looked just as Vincent had imagined when the fireflies got close to him. "I think they like you," he teased, gaze fixed on the man. He was a little surprised that Cid seemed to appreciate the place so much, but that certainly didn't disappoint him.

“Nah,” Cid chuckled.  “Are ya so sure it's me they're attracted to?” He winked at Vincent and stretched his legs out in front of him.  “I know where I'd be headed if I was an itty bitty bug.”

"That one there seems to think it wants in my boot. Maybe your sense of direction is skewed when you're a bug." Vincent reached down and carefully retrieved the insect, leaning over to set it on Cid's ankle instead.

“Eh? So yer givin' 'im t' me?  I'll squish him!” Cid unfolded his hands and retrieved the tiny bug, letting it crawl onto his finger.  He lifted it up closer to his face to inspect it only to have it lift its gossamer wings and take off without a whisper of sound.  Cid chuckled.  “Off ya get little fella.  Go find yer lady 'n make more little bugs.”

Vincent snorted, feeling a kind of peace and happiness he hadn't felt in far too many years. He relocated again, taking advantage of Cid's outstretched legs to rest his head in the man's lap. "Maybe he's like us," he said vaguely, stretching.

“Oh yeah?” Cid asked, raising an eyebrow.  Automatically he dropped a hand to begin to lazily run his fingers through Vincent's hair.  “How ya figure?  You tellin' me ya like shoes, Valentine?  Gotta admit, explains a lot if that's th' case.”

"Shoes are practical," Vincent allowed. "So is being with women. I can take or leave practicality, as a general rule." He turned toward Cid, eyes closed at the comforting motion of fingers through his hair.

Cid frowned at Vincent's comment, though he never altered the speed or pressure of his fingers.  The thought of Vincent with a woman was... off-putting to say the least.  No woman could possibly appreciate everything that Vincent was.  What would they see anyway?  A pretty face?  Absolutely.  A strong man to take care of them?  Certainly.  Stability, even?  Probably, but Vincent was so much more than that!  Even the thought of Vincent with another man left a funny, sour taste in Cid's mouth.  He tried not to think about it.  “I suppose,” he murmured.

"What's that face for?" Vincent asked.

Cid tugged gently on a lock of Vincent's hair.  “S'nothin', just thinkin'.”  Cid said softly.  “Shut'chur eyes again, honey.  S'much as I love lookin' into 'em, you looked s' peaceful just then that'cha took m' breath a bit.”

"If I take away your breath, how will you take away mine?" Vincent asked, but he complied anyway, letting that same easy smile form on his face again. It was difficult to feel anything but safe and happy with Cid.

Cid grinned at the image of them both holding their breath, seeing who could hold theirs the longest.  His grin turned into a snicker, moving on to a chuckle and finally a warm, rich laugh as his imagination ran away with him.  “Well I reckon I dunno, Vince.  Might get kinda hard after a while, but I think I could prob'ly find a way.”

Vincent wasn't convinced, and he had to crack open his eyes to watch Cid laughing. "I'd like very much to see you try," he said, and that part was true any way it was interpreted. "Almost as much as I like seeing you laugh." He wanted to sit up and reach for Cid's face, lean over the man and kiss him until they _were_ both breathless...but Cid's hand was still in his hair, and Vincent felt monumentally lazy.

“Now that sounds like a challenge, Valentine!” Cid said, chuckling.  “But seein' as yer eyes 'r open 'an I'm still breathin' I don't think it'd be fair.  Gotta admit though, s' been a while since I had a good laugh, s' thank ya fer that.”

"I'm sure you'll have many more at my expense," Vincent said drily, shutting his eyes again. "Though if you're not careful, I'll start finding creative ways to quiet you." _That_ was an image worth thinking on.

Cid grew quiet and watched Vincent's face.  Gently, he reached out and brushed the backs of his fingers over Vincent's cheek softly.  “I'll never laugh at'cha Vincent, jus' like I'll do m' best t' never hurt'cha even though I prob'ly will.”  He tried to keep the hint of sadness out of his voice.  Vincent deserved a perfect life.  Cid ran the tips of his fingers over Vincent's bottom lip.  _S' soft, perfect..._ he thought.

"I don't mind being laughed at, Cid. I'd be honored to be the one to make you laugh. We'll laugh with each other, and we'll be careful with each other. That's fair." He was beginning to get the feeling that Cid thought him sensitive or self-conscious, but the man would learn in time. He could learn a lot of things from Vincent.

He couldn't resist the fingers running over his lips, though, tough skin and big, blunt fingertips. Into his mouth they went after a quick kiss, and the feel of them against his tongue was enough to distract him from worrying about whether he'd startle Cid.

Cid's breath froze in his lungs, his eyes going wide.  Everything around him was forgotten for this one moment.  He watched his fingers slide into Vincent's mouth greedily.  The warm, wet heat, Vincent's soft tongue sliding over his skin.  Cid's eyes fluttered nearly shut.  What would that mouth feel like on other parts of his body?  He knew he shouldn't feel like that, think like that, but he couldn't help it, couldn't _stop_ himself.  “Vincent,” he whispered.  He wanted to tell Vincent to stop, but at the same time he didn't want this moment in time to ever pass.

Cid sounded a little uncertain, so Vincent let himself indulge only a few moments longer, taking Cid's wrist to bring those digits in deeper. Cid had good hands, big and strong, the fingers blunt and so thick. A working man's hands, and Vincent hadn't ever thought he would like that. His body proved him wrong, hand unwilling to pull Cid's away. "You didn't like my demonstration? I could give you my fingers instead," he offered, half-teasing but letting his free hand climb Cid's chest anyway. "If you're going to call me a tease again, I'll have to prove I'm not."

“I just call it as I see it, honey,” Cid said hoarsely.  He caught Vincent's moving hand with his free one and brought it to his lips, kissing Vincent's palm gently.  Cid managed to tear his eyes away from his hand resting so close to Vincent's mouth and looked at the gunman's hand instead; the smooth, pale skin and long elegant fingers.  Even Vincent's nails were perfect.  “Y'got beautiful hands, Vincent,” Cid said, pressing Vincent's fingers to his stubbled cheek and shutting his eyes.

Cid wasn't making it easy for the Vincent to forget that Cid seemed to adore him. He couldn't find a reason for it. Cid was brave, strong, kind, handsome, and intelligent about things far beyond Vincent's understanding. Vincent was...an overgrown, emotionally unstable child with an admittedly decent enough body. It didn't seem to be his body that intrigued Cid, though, and that was almost as frustrating as it was flattering.

He stroked the bristled cheek under his fingers, looking up at Cid in a state of wonder at the man's reverence of him. This wasn't the time to tease about being able to do many things with his beautiful hands; this was the time to slide Cid's palm against his cheek in return. He liked the heavy, warm feel of Cid's hand there, just the way he knew he'd like it anywhere. "I never thought I would appreciate hands like yours, but now I've felt them I can't remember what anyone else's might feel like. I don't want to."

Cid smiled tenderly down at Vincent, threading his fingers with Vincent's and bringing their entwined hands to his chest.  “I wanna run these big ol' scarred hands 'o mine all over ya Vincent.  Feel what I've only been able t' see,” he said softly.  Here, in the privacy of this hidden forest where they were the only two people, he could afford to give in a little bit to his fantasies.  Just a little.  He feathered his fingers over Vincent's cheek again, lost in Vincent's open expression of trust and wonder and secretly glad that he was the only one to ever see it.  “Yer so beautiful, honey,” Cid sighed.  “Just... beautiful.”

"Then touch me," Vincent said, twining their other hands together as well and kissing Cid's knuckles. "I'm yours for it, and for anything." He failed to suppress a shiver at the thought. Cid's hands would feel good on his body, anywhere they touched.  Cid said he wanted those things, but Vincent hadn't yet been able to get him to act. Only the sincere feeling of fear at the idea of of scaring Cid away kept him from pressing the man for that action.

"Cid? When I think of upsetting you, I feel more afraid and more sad than I've felt about anything nearly my whole life. Please don't let me do that."

Vincent's expression nearly broke his heart even as Vincent's confession caused it to stutter.  Shifting gently, Cid re-positioned himself so that he could lower his head and tenderly claim Vincent's lips with his own.  He took his time, drawing it out and carefully letting one of Vincent's hands go so that he could slide his own behind Vincent's neck.  When Cid broke the kiss, he kept his lips nearly touching Vincent's.  “Vincent, there ain't anything you c'd to t' upset me.  I'd give ya anything y' asked o' me, do anything ya ask 'o me if it made yer eyes light up even a little.”

Vincent's free hand kept Cid close, grasping a little at the short strands of hair. "There are so many things I might do that would hurt you, Cid. The way you look at me--" He shook his head. "I won't be the one to break that big heart." He got his other hand free and wrapped his arm around Cid's shoulders. "I want to make your eyes light up, too. Making you happy  and keeping you safe are the only things I've genuinely wanted since we stopped Meteor. And now-- I want you, too."

Cid's expression softened.  Leaning down, he placed his lips by Vincent's ear and whispered, “Yer th' only one who could break m' heart, honey.”  He pulled away from Vincent so that he could look down into his friend's face and grinned, his eyes warm.  “'N if ya want me t' stop lookin' atch'a then y'll have 't put m' eyes out, 'cause that's th' only way I know t' look atch'a.”  He kissed the tip of Vincent's nose and rose to his feet.  Grin still in place, he held out his hand to Vincent.

"I like your eyes," Vincent protested, taking Cid's hand and standing. "And I like you looking at me." He wondered where they were going. A late-night walk through a slightly dangerous, very dark forest sounded like exactly the kind of date they should have gone on the first time.

Cid's grin turned slightly lascivious as he backed up, pulling Vincent gently with him until they were out from under the tree that they had been laying under.  He never took his eyes away from Vincent's face and when he felt the soft springy grass under his boots, he stopped and pulled Vincent in against his body.  Hands coming up to frame Vincent's face, he kissed the gunman again only this time more firmly, mouth slanting for a deeper kiss, Cid teased along Vincent's lips until he felt Vincent respond in kind.  Cid forced himself to stop and, breathlessly, he took a step back. 

The moon shone brightly in a cloudless, star-studded sky, bathing Vincent in a soft white light. Cid thought that he had never seen a more beautiful sight.  “Th' moon suits ya,” he said softly, “s' cold... but I know better.”  Cid's hands shook only slightly as they came up and began to unfasten Vincent's mantle; one buckle, a second, until the tattered garment slid from Vincent's broad shoulders with a whisper of fabric.  He turned and spread it out on the ground before untying his shirt from his waist and laying it out as well.  Taking a deep breath, he pulled his shirt off over his head in one smooth motion and dropped it by their makeshift pallet. 

There was just enough of a warm breeze to brush over his skin with a feathery touch, adding to his growing arousal.  “God, look at'cha,” he breathed, hands returning to Vincent's face reverently.

"I'm too busy looking at you," Vincent said, distracted from the fact that he should probably be undressing by the sight of Cid's bare chest. It usually did distract him. There was so much he could do for Cid, yet the more he thought about it, the more Vincent realized that he would actually be just as content just to lie beside Cid under a sky like the one above them. Even time with Cid in the confinement of four walls and a roof was time better spent than all the years he'd gone his own way, and it didn't matter what they were doing.

This, though, was a very pleasing way to spend time. Vincent wasn't going to argue at all. It was more important to run his hands down Cid's back, wide strokes over the solid, broad surface. Those impressive muscles shifted beneath his touch, and Vincent choked off a gasp as he leaned in to kiss Cid again. The thought of the way those muscles might look and feel later, when he and Cid were moving together...then again, maybe it wouldn't be so very much later.

His hands found Cid's ass just then, and that was a very pleasant thing to feel, so Vincent took his time in the feeling. His hands squeezed and massaged, and his fingers wandered toward the center of the seat of Cid's pants as Vincent wondered whether someday Cid would let Vincent spread those firm cheeks and have him. Not tonight, appealing though the idea was.

Cid's eyelids dropped low over his blue eyes and he made a pleased sound in the back of his throat.  “Who'd'a thunk Vincent Valentine had wanderin' hands,” he said huskily, reaching up between them to begin unbuttoning Vincent's shirt.  He wanted to watch so he took a step back, missing the feel of Vincent's hands on him, but eager to watch Vincent's pale skin being exposed.  Cid had seen Vincent without a shirt on many times, had even lain beside Vincent when they were half naked, but somehow this time was different.

The atmosphere was different, heavy with expectancy and anticipation with only one goal in mind.  That fact alone made it feel to Cid as if he had never seen Vincent without clothing before.

Slowly ,Cid's fingers worked each button loose until Vincent's shirt hung slightly parted.  Without pausing to think about what he was doing with his best friend, Cid slid a hand under one side of Vincent's shirt.  He didn't know why he was surprised to feel Vincent's skin so warm, but he was and his other hand rose to join the first under the other side of the parted shirt.  Relishing the feel of Vincent's smooth skin, Cid slid his hands higher on Vincent's pectorals, callouses brushing the gunman's nipples, until he reached Vincent's shoulders where he pushed the shirt off to slide down Vincent's lean arms.

Just like that, Vincent was naked from the waist up and Cid couldn't tear his gaze away.  What would happen to him when Vincent's pants came off, because Cid knew that was where they were headed?  Maybe he would die of heart failure.

Vincent almost told Cid which other parts of his might like to wander, but then Cid was undoing buttons and pushing away his shirt. Vincent did gasp this time as rough palms slid over his nipples, working together with the cool air to tighten the skin there. "I hope that's a good stare," he said. Cid had looked at him many times, but they hadn't ever seen each other like this. The scar from the gunshot that had nearly killed him --or had killed him; he was never quite sure whether he'd died-- would surely be visible in the soft moonlight, and he hoped it wouldn't make Cid think too much.

Distraction was the best option, so Vincent brought his hands to Cid's waistband, where his fingers deftly undid the fastenings. He parted the fabric but didn't push the pants down just yet. Fingertips teased just through the opening in the pants, rubbing the material of Cid's boxers against his inner thigh. "I get the feeling you want to make love to me, Highwind."

Cid's breathing stopped at the feel of Vincent's fingers so close to his rigid sex.  How long had he wanted this?  How many times had he imagined it happening, what was said and done?  Now it was and he was very nearly locked in place, unable to move even a little.  “Somethin' like that,” he heard himself say, his voice raspy and heavy.  _If only I could!_   Cid thought desperately.  _If only there was a way..._   Somehow he managed to get his lungs working again and his own hands went to the button of Vincent's pants. 

He struggled only a little in getting them open, swallowing hard when he saw a fine trail of black hair disappearing below the waistband of Vincent's boxers.  Tentatively, Cid reached out to run his fingers over the rigid organ hidden behind the thin fabric, shivering when he felt the evidence of Vincent's own interest in what they were doing.  He had a momentary instant of panic when he realized that he didn't have a clue as to what he was doing, but that was quickly quelled when he realized quite confidently that this was what he very much wanted.

Vincent wanted to push forward into that questing hand. What he remembered of this was either rough and desperate or gentle but desperate, and he found that he had little idea of how to ease Cid into something unfamiliar. "Do you like the way I feel?" he asked, watching the expression on Cid's face change.

Cid nodded and stepped up against Vincent again, unable to resist the lure of Vincent's lips.  His kissed the gunman again, thrusting deeply with tongue, shivering at the velvety rasp of it against Vincent's while his hands rubbed up and down Vincent's back.  Cid loved the feel of all that lean muscle sliding under Vincent's soft skin.  Cid's lips left Vincent's mouth to trail feather-light kisses over Vincent's eyelids, his cheeks and down to Vincent's jaw before traveling lower to Vincent's neck.  Cid could get drunk from kissing Vincent.  Lower still he traveled with his kisses until Cid found himself on his knees in front of Vincent.  He looked up at his friend, all the emotion he felt for the gunman written plainly on his face and in his eyes.  Cid wrapped his strong arms around Vincent's waist, pressing his cheek to Vincent's lean stomach and shuddering at the strength of his emotions for this exceptional man.

Vincent rested a hand on Cid's head, awed and shocked still by the depth in Cid's gaze. The man truly did adore him, and Vincent didn't really understand the how or why. He supposed that it was only normal for people to see things in each other that they couldn't see in themselves. Still he worried that Cid would see far too many good qualities in him that didn't exist.

He refused to break eye contact as he looked down, stroking Cid's hair.

“I need ya Vincent,” Cid said roughly, “sure's I need th' air t' breathe.”

Vincent wanted to say that Cid had clearly survived without him before, but when he thought about it, the words stuck in his throat. Survival and living happily were two very different things, and Cid had been the one to show him that. Vincent couldn't imagine now going back to a life of hopping from insecure base to insecure base, pausing in quiet moments to hear the tinny playback of Cid's voice. "I needed you then, too. I just didn't know quite how much until I had you all the time. You don't know the comfort it brought me to hear your voice when I was alone."

Cid closed his eyes as he listened to Vincent's confession.  To know that he was missed was one thing, but hear just how much from the one person he loved above all others moved Cid to speechlessness.  Slowly, he rose back up to his feet and embraced Vincent again, reaching low with his arms and pressing Vincent's leaner body against his so that the gunman might better feel the extent of his desire.  He maneuvered them both until he could coax Vincent down onto the makeshift pallet.  He followed Vincent down, positioning his body on top of Vincent's.  Cid moved against Vincent then, slowly pressing and rubbing with his hips against Vincent's while kissing Vincent deep and slow. 

This was better than distant comfort. This was Cid not only needing him but wanting him, and being wanted was so much better anyway. He let his arms wrap loosely around the man, kissing in return and breaking away to kiss Cid's cheek, his neck, his ear. He pressed up in return, legs spreading a little to accommodate Cid against him. The man fit against Vincent well, and the weight of Cid atop him was at once startling and very pleasing.

His pants were in the way; he wanted suddenly to wrap himself around Cid entirely, keep him steady there. That wasn't to be rushed, though, so Vincent contented himself with squeezing Cid's back and shoulders, rubbing his thigh against Cid's, and then reaching up to tangle his fingers in short blond hair as Vincent arched his back.

Cid welcomed the increasing urgency of his body, that yearn for contact and the sweet release that would lay him out in complete relaxation.  While his lips were busy with Vincent's, he let his hand drift down Vincent's body, rubbing and squeezing solid flesh and muscle to come to a rest in between Vincent's legs.  His friend's erection pressed desperately against the soft fabric of his boxers, and Cid felt his mouth go dry.  It was now or never, really, he reasoned, and besides, touching would be so much better if they could feel each other's bodies without anything in the way. 

Disengaging from Vincent's embrace, Cid rose up onto his knees beside Vincent.  He curled his fingers into the waistband of Vincent's boxers and smoothly slid both pants and boxers down Vincent's pale thighs, over his knees and off, taking Vincent's shoes and socks with them.  Then Cid let his hungry gaze slowly travel up those amazing legs, greedily drinking in the pale naked body lying before him.  His gaze finally settled on Vincent's thick erection.  Flushed with blood, Vincent's cock lay long and rigid against his flat belly, a small patch of soft black hair at its base.  Cid literally felt his mouth began to water at the sight, unusual in itself considering he felt like he did for another man, but with Vincent it made perfect sense.

Vincent smiled and stretched out for Cid, liking the way the man's gaze felt on him. He hoped Cid wouldn't be scared away upon seeing the clear evidence that Vincent was male...but the look on the man's face said that wasn't going to happen.

"You won't let me see you?" he asked softly after lying for a while at the mercy of those watchful eyes. He reached for Cid's waist, thumbs sliding down to rest under the fabric of his pants. "You can look at me as long as you want if I get to look too."

_He's so beautiful_.  Cid bit his lip to stop the moan from escaping.  Cid's fingers twitched he wanted to touch Vincent so badly.  Cid grinned when Vincent tugged at his waistband.  “Yer wish is my command,” Cid teased gently, “but I'm afraid I ain't as good lookin' as you are.”  He winked at Vincent before climbing to his feet.  Bending over, he unlaced his boots and toed them off before hooking is thumbs in the waistband of his own pants and sliding them down his legs, pulling them off by grabbing the bottoms of his pants legs.  Cid stood over Vincent, legs slightly parted and arms relaxed by his sides.  Eyes dark, he watched Vincent's face.  “What d' ya want from me Vincent?  Right now.  I'll give ya anything ya want.”

Vincent didn't have a clue what Cid was talking about. The man was gorgeous, so strong and so well built. Vincent wanted so many things from him. He could be selfish and ask for them all, and he knew Cid would give everything. "Just lie down beside me again. All I need is for us to be able to touch each other."

He couldn't stop looking at those thick thighs, loaded with the muscle that allowed Cid to spring into the air like no one else could. The patch of hair between them caught his eye, and that thick, straight cock standing so proud. He would taste Cid there, someday. Maybe tonight if their touching took them in that direction.

If not, he would be more than content to run his hands over Cid's broad, strong chest all night, kissing him and pressing close until they couldn't keep their hands above each other's waists any longer.

Cid nodded and sank to his knees then stretched out beside Vincent.  He lay on his side, head propped up on a hand.  He placed his palm over Vincent's heart, smiling when he felt the strong, steady heartbeat.  “Would it make me a romantic fool if I said I didn't want the night t' end?” he whispered, hooking one of his legs over Vincent's.

"It makes you romantic," Vincent allowed. "I think I'm the fool, hoping that every night will be like this one." For all the energy he'd put into touching each other and losing clothing, Vincent wanted little more than this now, Cid beside him and so warm.

All right, maybe a little more. He tried his best to remain content, but his body was too charged. "Cid? I want to lie here with you forever but I may have underestimated something,” he whispered, feeling a little embarrassed. “No one's touched me here in more than thirty years," he continued, taking Cid's hand and leading it down his chest to wrap those fingers around his erection. "Remind me what it's like."

Cid's eyes widened when Vincent guided his hand down and his fingers closed around Vincent's cock, but one look at Vincent's face wiped away any discomfort that might have even thought about surfacing.  “Aye, I c'n do that, honey,” he breathed, leaning forward to claim Vincent's lips again.  He'd never jerked off another man before, but he knew what he liked and what worked for him.  Maybe the same would be true for Vincent.  Tightening his fingers, he started slowly. Up and down, up and down, pausing every once in a while to bring his hand up over the sensitive head before resuming the stroking.  “Is this good?” he rasped, his mouth close to Vincent's ear.  “Y' gotta tell me what'cha like Vincent.” He traced Vincent's ear with his tongue, pausing to gently nip Vincent's earlobe.

"So good," Vincent groaned, arching for Cid again and letting his mouth fall open. Anything would have been good with that hand on him. Vincent's legs spread and his knees bent nearly of their own accord. He wanted more even as the intensity of another's hands on him made itself known, but he didn't want the night to be over so fast. "Might be too good," he breathed, laughing a little. "Maybe a better question is what you'd like me to do for you."

“Yer doin' it, honey,” Cid said raggedly, unable to tear his eyes away from Vincent's flushed body.  “God, yer fuckin' gorgeous.”  Cid stifled another moan and leaned down to kiss Vincent hard, thrusting demandingly now with his tongue as his hand sped up, squeezing just enough to send shock waves through the body under him.  He knew exactly what it felt like, and yet it didn't feel like quite enough.   Cid watched his hand move over Vincent's cock and before he knew it he was leaning down, down, down until he could flick his tongue over the glistening tip.  Cid shivered when he tasted Vincent, smelled Vincent's musky, slightly spicy scent.  He was gripped with an overwhelming urge to take Vincent into his mouth, and he proceeded to do just that.  Cid moaned softly, Vincent even tasted good.  While his mouth worked Vincent's cock, one hand rubbed Vincent's pubis right at the base of his erection, curling fingers around Vincent's testicles while his other hand gripped one of the gunman's thighs hard.

"Cid," Vincent gasped, fighting hard to keep his hands from reaching down to yank at Cid's hair. If Cid's hand had been nearly too good, this was-- he didn't know what to do except twist his hands in the clothing beneath them and dig his heels into the ground to try to distract himself from the urge to thrust upwards.

Cid hadn't done this before, and it was obvious enough, but Vincent didn't care. He hadn't felt anything nearly so good in far too long, and though Cid's mouth was moist and sweet and his hands were warm  and gentle-- except where he'd have bruises of Cid's fingerprints in the morning, it all felt like so very much to take in. "Cid," he panted, squirming and twisting his hands in deeper. "I can't-- I might hurt you."

Cid released Vincent's cock with a wet sound and looked up at his friend's face.  He reached up with both hands and smoothed his palms over Vincent's heaving chest.  “Y' won't hurt me,” he said with complete confidence.  “I trust ya Vincent.  Sure ya might be a little rough, but it's nothin' I wouldn't gladly take.  This ol' body's tougher 'n it looks.”  Cid shifted then, moving to settle in between Vincent's legs where it felt more natural.  His calloused hands moved slowly down Vincent's stomach to each pale thigh and he pushed them wider apart.  “I like ya like this,” he confessed hoarsely, lowering his mouth to run his tongue over Vincent's scrotum.  “Naked 'n exposed fer everyone t' see, only it's just me.  I could look at'cha like this forever.”

"If you leave me like this forever I really will hurt you," Vincent griped. Cid was the tease, all this time. He should have figured that Cid would be bold enough to explore him like this. What else would a man like Cid do?

Cid had gotten him spread this way so easily, lying on his back with his thighs wide and his cock leaking, and no one else could claim that. Vincent had been notoriously finicky about his partners and what they did, and thinking of himself then, how tough he had tried to be-- how much had he missed, trying to put himself in the spotlight? Now here he was with Cid's eyes on him, and that was all the audience he needed.

"What else does that tongue do?" he wondered aloud.

Cid quirked an eyebrow.  “Well, I'm pretty good at lickin' a popsicle I reckon',” he murmured thoughtfully.  “Can whistle pretty good too, that what'cha meant?” he asked innocently, rubbing the soft skin below Vincent's scrotum.

Cid was awful. Vincent choked off a sound that was something like a growl as he reached down for the man, grabbing him and yanking him up to kiss those lips.

"Maybe you'll whistle a new tune when I'm done with you," he grumbled, trying to sound threatening as he flipped them over. It was exhilarating to look at Cid like this, no matter how they were arranged. He slid down the man's body, planting his hands on Cid's thighs now. Vincent had always liked to serve his revenge hot and fresh, he reflected as he lowered his head and moved one hand to wrap long fingers around Cid's erection.

Cid's eyes grew rounder and rounder the closer Vincent got to his arousal and he literally jumped when his friend's fingers wrapped around him.  Jerking off another man was a new experience, and _being_ jerked off by another man was a similarly new experience.  There was something heavily erotic about it, for only another man could truly know his body and what would feel good.  Cid willingly spread his legs, encouraging Vincent to lie between them.  He put one hand behind his head while the other one found its way into Vincent's hair.  Vincent's breath was hot and moist on his skin and he shuddered expectantly.

Cid was perfect. That really was the only explanation for everything about the man. It didn't take Vincent long to follow the cue, licking and kissing his way down Cid's belly. Vincent arranged his free arm to help him rest comfortably, hand splayed below Cid's navel. Then his mouth joined his hand on Cid's cock, and it was all over.

He had missed doing this, using so little of his own body to get such dynamic reactions from his partner. He had only to move his tongue just the right away or apply just a little more suction, and those fingers flexed in his hair and the muscles of Cid's abdomen fluttered under his hand. Vincent could do this for him as long as it took-- this and more, if Cid wanted more. For now Vincent kept things simple, his eyes watching Cid's face as his lips remained sealed around the man's cock.

Just like that, Vincent reduced Cid to helplessly quivering muscle and flesh.  Try as he might, Cid could not hold back the moan that had threatened to escape.  “Vincent,” he whispered.  When Vincent's tongue pressed firmly against the underside of the head of his cock, Cid hissed his breath in sharply.  He began rocking his hips up into Vincent's mouth.  Cid lowered himself back onto Vincent's mantle, one hand fisting in the fabric while the other one took a firmer hold in Vincent's hair.  Too quickly, Vincent worked him up, closer and closer, the tightness in his groin driving him closer to release.  It felt so damn good, the wet heat around him, Cid didn't want it to end even as he felt himself dangerously close to flying apart.

Vincent pulled away reluctantly. Cid felt good, full and heavy against his tongue, and the taste of him was more pleasing than Vincent had remembered this being. Maybe it was only Cid. That wouldn't surprise Vincent at all.

"You're so close, aren't you?" he murmured, voice dropped to a soothing level as his hand stroked slowly up and down Cid's shaft. "I can finish you just like that if you want, with my mouth around you. But next time I think I'll want you inside me." Cid would like that. Vincent was certain.

Cid let loose a muttered string of words, several of which were probably curse words.  He didn't hear Vincent's words so much as he just heard Vincent's voice and that was more than enough.  His muscles began to bunch and clench.  Cid, squirming on the make-shift pallet, looked up at Vincent.  “I'm gonna come, honey,” he groaned, “oh god I'm gonna come.”

Vincent watched Cid closely, more aroused by the man's squirming and chattering than he thought he would ever be by such things. He kept moving his hand, holding a little more tightly and increasing the speed of his strokes in response to Cid's reaction. He lowered his head to kiss Cid's neck as he slid his fist up and over the head of Cid's cock and back down, and it took only once more before that hand was filling with the product of Cid's release.

Watching again from a few inches away, Vincent took in the sight of the intense pleasure on Cid's face and saw him also drift down from that high into a state of relaxation. Vincent would never get tired of seeing Cid like this, he knew immediately. When Cid's eyes were open again, Vincent brought his hand to his own lips, licking away some of the mess Cid had created. With their gazes still locked, Vincent offered the rest to Cid, pressing a finger gently against the man's lips.

Cid obediently opened his mouth, eyes never wavering from Vincent's red stare.  He curled his tongue around those deft, elegant fingers, reaching up to gently take Vincent's wrist in his hand to hold it steady.  Something like that should probably disgust him, but it was the furthest thing from his mind.  Instead, Cid was moved by the intimacy of it all.  When Vincent's fingers were clean he whispered, “Now you.”  He knew Vincent wasn't done and that the gunman was still hard.  “I wanna watch ya finish.”  Cid voice was a little stronger, demanding.  “Straddle m' hips Vince, I wanna watch.”

Vincent wasn't sure he could deny Cid anything, now that he had the man. Vincent kissed him once, slow but so deep he thought he might not be able to extricate himself. Then he had to make only one smooth movement until he was positioned the way Cid wanted him. He liked looking down at Cid this way, and he liked the way the man's eyes were on him as he reached down to take himself in hand.

"You don't want to touch?" Vincent asked. That might get to be a problem, in time, but he supposed he could let Cid just look this once. It didn't take him long, with the wonderful sight below him, to find a satisfactory rhythm.

Cid was spellbound, eyes drinking in the lean, pale body over him.  He didn't know where to look, eyes traveling from Vincent's face, down the gunman's body to the man's hips where he stared at Vincent's hand working his cock.  Cid groaned, shifting a little under Vincent.  His hands came up to rest on Vincent's thighs and he let them rub up to Vincent's hips and back down; up and down, up and down, squeezing a little as he did so.  Vincent was gorgeous, there was no other way to describe what he was seeing, but the most beautiful was Vincent's face and the emotion he saw playing out there.  Vincent in the throes of passion, of lust and rising ecstasy made every struggle to get to this point worth it.  The angular features of Vincent's face gave him a sly, almost calculating appearance, but the dilated pupils, the flushed skin and parted lips told a very different story.  Cid let his hands leave Vincent's thighs briefly to travel up Vincent's chest where he ran his thumbs over the gunman's stiffened nipples, pinching and rolling them before running his hands back down Vincent's body to the man's hips.

Vincent arched into Cid's touch, trying to get more of the man's hands on him wherever their skin met. The heat from the man's body along with the way he was touching himself was driving him crazy; when was the last time he'd indulged? Too long ago to think of, and thinking wasn't something Vincent was inclined to do at the moment anyway.

"Cid," he breathed, his free hand dragging one of Cid's back to his chest and hoping the man would touch him there again. The little shocks it brought him to have Cid's rough hands on his nipples combined so well with the way his fingers were teasing along the underside of his cock-- Vincent wanted nothing more than to scoot his way up until he was kneeling over Cid's face and see if the man would swallow for him. Some other time, but now it was time to step up his strokes. He gripped himself properly after returning his other hand to its resting place on Cid's chest, head bowed and gaze locked on Cid's face as he began to thrust into his own grip.

“Oh god,” Cid mumbled, his voice quavering.  Vincent was exquisite in his pleasure.  The way the gunman's muscles clenched and trembled, the movement of his hand on his cock, the light sheen of sweat all had Cid's body reacting as though goosed with a mag rod.  His own cock began to twitch again, not in the desperate way when he needed to come, but certainly in a healthy appreciation of the vision above him.  His newly awakened erection lifted to rub against Vincent's buttocks, and Cid groaned deep in his chest.  Cid's hands couldn't hold still.  They ran over Vincent's chest again, revisiting reddened nipples, down over Vincent's tight abdomen, over Vincent's hips and behind the gunman to grip Vincent's ass.  He squeezed the mounds of flesh hard in his hands, pulling them apart with each renewed grip.  Unconsciously, his own hips began to roll in time with Vincent's.  “Fuck baby yer beautiful,” he gritted out between clenched teeth.  “C'mon Vince, work it harder. I wanna see ya come.”

That made it all the more tempting to try to get Cid inside him. This time, though, just the hint of Cid's erection pressing between his spread cheeks was enough to make Vincent call the man's name as he worked faster toward release. It didn't take long beyond that for Vincent to come, adding to the mess on Cid's belly. His nails dug in for purchase against Cid and he pushed back against that pressure below him when he wasn't rushing forward into his own grip.

The feeling was so intense that it felt nearly equivalent to breaking his limit and shifting, except the bright spots in his vision weren't from pain this time, and the disorientation was entirely enjoyable as he settled onto Cid's chest, reveling in the wetness between them. "Kiss me," Vincent demanded.

Cid was only too happy to comply with Vincent's command, roughly fisting one large hand in Vincent's hair and dragging Vincent's lips to his own.  He thrust hungrily into Vincent's eager mouth with his tongue, angling his head for a deeper, more thorough kiss.  Cid's grip lessened gradually as he came back down from wherever the hell it was his body had gone to during Vincent's orgasm until he was gently cradling the gunman's face in his hands.  “Vincent, I-” he started, but couldn't finish.  How did you say anything after something like that?  'Thank you' seemed empty and not nearly enough.  Cid studied Vincent's flushed face, overcome with emotion that was frighteningly foreign, but nonetheless welcome.  “I love you,” he breathed before he could stop himself.

Cid was everywhere Vincent needed him to be, just like always, and he took the man's words to heart as he wrapped himself around Cid. He had to rest, eyes shut and lips pressed to Cid's shoulder. He was still trembling faintly, and only after several long moments, when the initial pleasure had faded, did he realize that he was cold.  His mind was churning, and all sorts of thoughts jumbled together there. He would have fled from anyone else, but Cid was an anchor in a way no one else had ever been.

Cid's arms came up and around Vincent, loosely at first, but when he felt his friend shivering, no more than a faint quivering of muscle under skin, he tightened his arms around Vincent.  Slowly, carefully, he began stroking Vincent's hair and desperately wanted a blanket to pull over them.  Cid wanted to say something, ask what was on Vincent's mind or what the gunman wanted to do next, but even he knew that sometimes words were not welcome.  So he held his friend and let Vincent have his privacy.

How many of his partners had left him right about now, smug smile in place and a promise to call for a repeat? He hadn't realized that he remembered that feeling with unhappiness or that he'd feared it, however improbable it seemed, concerning Cid. The relief as those strong arms wound around him was nearly overwhelming, and Vincent exhaled shakily against Cid and let his head rest more comfortably on the man's chest.

At Vincent's exhalation, concern began to worry at Cid's mind.  Slowly he began to rub Vincent's back until finally he couldn't stay quiet any longer.  “What is it honey?” he whispered.  Worry of not performing up to Vincent's standards, whatever they may have been, niggled at Cid's mind, but he shoved those worries firmly away.  “Is it somethin' you c'n tell me?”

Vincent frowned. Tell Cid...what? Maybe he looked sad while he remembered. It didn't seem proper etiquette to bring up old partners or past experiences-- and anyway, that hadn't been what he was really thinking about it, had it? "Few people have ever wanted to keep me," he explained haltingly, "and you're the first time I've ever truly wanted to stay. Being with you is...my life has never shown me anything else that compares."

Cid grinned.  Well if that wasn't a boost to the ego!  But egos aside, what Vincent said before that made him snort.  “Can't possibly see why! Yer, well... yer you!”  He nuzzled his cheek against the top of Vincent's head.  “Yer perfect, jus'... perfect.”  The hand rubbing Vincent's back slid all the way over Vincent so that he could hold his friend again.  “I'll keep ya ferever s' long as ya feel like ya wanna stay.”  Cid kissed the top of Vincent's head where his cheek had been seconds before.  “Thank ya fer trustin' me, Vincent.”  

"Thank you for trusting me to stay." Maybe that made all the difference, really. No one else had ever expected him to stay, and why should he prove wrong a person who thought so little of him? "I'm far from perfect, but I'll try to earn my keep." Cid would probably enjoy the chance to get clean soon, but Vincent didn't want to move yet.

Cid chuckled.  “Y'don't have t' earn yer keep,Vincent, y'ain't an employee!”  He took a deep breath and let it out on a long, happy sigh.  “Y' reckon we could stay here forever?  I'd like that, I think.”

"I could stay here with you," Vincent said. "But you can't, remember? I asked you to run with me before. You have responsibilities and...things, and people who count on you." He sounded sad as he said it, because the idea of traveling the world with Cid at his side still appealed to him greatly.  "But I'm just as happy to stay anywhere with you, and a soft bed and a roof above me certainly help the case of your house."

Cid's expression turned sad at the tone of Vincent's voice.  “You don't like stayin' do ya, Vince.” He said softly.  Not for the first time, Cid had had a feeling that Vincent was staying simply because Cid wanted him to and not because Vincent really wanted to.  At the end of the day, Vincent was simply too different to be comfortable in any kind of domestic setting.  “Y' don't have t' stay 'cause o' me, Vincent,” Cid murmured.  “I know yer happiest away from people, doin' yer own thing 'n whatnot.”  He shifted their positions until he could tip Vincent's face up so he could see the gunman's eyes.  “You've sacrified s' much fer me 'n I ain't gonna blame ya if y' need t' get up 'n leave fer a while.”  He tried to hide his own sadness at the thought of never seeing Vincent again.  “Y' gave me a gift t' night 'n I ain't never gonna ferget that.”

"It isn't about being away," Vincent tried to explain. "It's about being...quiet. Safe. Your home offers me that. You offer me that. I'm honest when I say that staying here with you appeals to me far more than being away without you. Don't forget that, either." If he ever did go, Vincent didn't think he could stay away for long. Cid would call to him. "Home would call me back if I left." His home, too, according to Cid. How long had it been since he'd been able to call a place home? It felt just as overwhelming to think of that as it did to think of the way Cid wanted and needed him. "It's only that I'm not used to staying put. Perhaps I'm thinking of nesting," he added, yawning around the words.

Cid laughed softly, framing that cherished face with his large hands.  Vincent looked so young at that moment; his youthful, unblemished skin was flushed from their lovemaking, those remarkable red eyes usually far older were now slightly hazy and unfocused, sleepy and alluring.  He leaned up to kiss Vincent.  “There another critter in there?  Y' pick up a bird 'r somethin 'n not tell me?” he teased gently.

Vincent snorted, smiling and nuzzling into Cid's touch. "I wouldn't be surprised. If you see me dropping feathers, let me know."


End file.
